I once interviewed with a Vice President who was 45 minutes late to the early-morning meeting he had scheduled for 7:00 am.
With no apologies, he proceeded to consume his breakfast while he interviewed me -- muffin crumbs tumbling from his lips every few seconds, the sweaty condensation from his bottle of orange juice lobbing water droplets around his desk and onto my resume.
At one point, he demanded to see my portfolio, and moments after shaking free the sticky wrapper from his second muffin, reached over to paw through my portfolio, which was crammed with original samples of my work.
In a flash, I yanked the portfolio back across the desk to me. "How about I turn the pages for you, so you can finish eating?" I asked, not wanting the portfolio to bear his fingerprints or the remants of his a la carte snack.
He looked up, mouth agape, stunned.
I didn't get the job.